


Crooked

by saintmichael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark fic, Dark!Adam, M/M, broken!michael, s15 divergent midam, tw: necrophilia mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27835273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintmichael/pseuds/saintmichael
Summary: The Cage is opened with the rest of Hell at Chuck's command, and Adam and Michael are unleashed onto the world.Michael's mind and body are almost completely destroyed from a millennium of agony. He obediently follows Adam, who seeks only violence.
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Crooked

“ _Drip, drip, drip,”_ Michael whispers, his voice echoing through the Cage. Adam opens his eyes and smiles up at his Archangel.

“What’s that, baby?” he murmurs, running his fingers over Michael’s prettiest wing. Adam has removed it and sown it onto his Archangel’s front so he can look at it as much as he wants.

“ _Drip. Drip drip.”_ Michael doesn’t sound playful. There’s an anxious whine to his voice that Adam immediately detects.

He tries to get up and his shoulders are ripped up by Michael’s claws still plunged into them. “Up, baby,” he coaxes. “Up.” 

Michael reluctantly withdraws his claws and teeth from Adam’s flesh, but continues to perch over him as he gets up, for the first time in a few dozen years. It’s difficult to see past the broken Archangel, but quite easy to figure out what Michael’s upset about once he does.

“The Cage is open,” he observes, staring up into the open abyss. “Is someone dripping on you? My poor angel,” he croons. He walks around to Michael’s other side to get a better look. Michael tries to follow him at first, getting in his way; Adam grabs a twisted limb and squeezes it in warning. Michael only follows him with a few eyeballs after that.

It’s just … open. There’s no one around that could be their obvious saviour. The Cage is as silent and lonely as ever. Adam narrows his eyes. 

“Bite me, sweetheart,” he says, reaching out a finger to his Archangel, and Michael happily tears his teeth through the digit. Adam examines the blood and feels the burning pain before looking back up at the open Cage. It seems real. It could still be a trap. But. 

He turns his attentions to Michael. Michael is broken in a very literal sense. This Cage was too small for him; it was made for a much more petite Archangel. Most of Michael’s crooked wings and other limbs _aren’t_ Adam’s doing or even The Other One’s.

“Can you fly, baby? If we get you out of here,” he asks. To his horror, Michael begins attempting to spread his wings, probably having understood the word ‘fly’ and not much else.

“No, no, _no,_ ” Adam hisses, and Michael stops immediately, fortunately before too much damage seems to be done. He stops to _think_. As long as they’re physically out of the Cage, then they should be fine.

“Pick me up,” he instructs. Michael whines, his voice a high pitched static in the air. Silky and sweet to Adam’s ears, but he doesn’t want it right now. “Like this,” he says, making a cup with his own hands. Michael blinks at him with a thousand eyes. Okay…

He grabs two of Michael’s claws for him and shove them in either side of his own waist. Michael happily digs in when he realises what’s happening. 

“Good boy,” Adam compliments, and Michael preens. His Archangel is so eager for praise, and Adam is happy to give him what he wants. “Now, up,” he says, pointing upwards. Michael’s eyes follow his finger, but he doesn’t quite seem to understand, and stays in his crouched position.

Adam has an idea, though. “Michael, lift me out of the Cage,” he says, miming what he wants. Michael’s eyes circle around his hands, inspecting the gesture carefully, before he _finally_ rises, and gently places Adam on the outer side of the Cage. He shudders with the effort as his bulging Grace pushes against the constraints of the Cage, _but_ \- for the first time in centuries - it has room to spill out, and Michael begins pouring over the entrance of the Cage. Adam’s Angel is grunting with exhaustion and pain. Poor baby.

“Come sit with me,” he says, patting the wall of the Cage he is sitting on. Michael is still, mostly, standing in the Cage, staring at him through the bars. “Come here. Come.”

After a few minutes, Adam is wondering if he’ll need to leave his Archangel here as he finds a way to destroy the Cage completely, but Michael interrupts by letting out an ear-splitting wail as he hooks more claws over the outside of the Cage and begins unsteadily pulling himself out. “Good boy,” Adam says soothingly. “So obedient.”

Michael eventually manages to collapse next to Adam. Adam dips into the blood leaking from his waist and rubs it into Michael’s Grace.

 _“adam Adam adam,”_ Michael mumbles, his voice the barest breeze that would fail to ruffle even a single blade of grass.

It doesn’t look like Adam will get a free ride out of him any time soon. He looks up. The rest of Hell is so far from here he can’t even see anything but inky blackness. How are they going to get out? 

He needs to think out of the box. No, they need to _get_ out of the box. Adam is tired of boxes.

“Michael, baby,” he whispers to his sweetheart. “Can you open a portal?”

A single eye opens and drifts over to Adam. “ _Small,”_ Michael says.

“That’s okay. We’ll be small,” Adam promises. “You’re gonna possess me, baby. Remember?”

The Cage had forced Michael out of his body as soon as they were within it. The howls of pain Michael released as the entirety of his true form was suddenly jammed into the too-small space was engraved on Adam’s soul for perpetuity. But he would be _fine_ back inside Adam, wouldn’t he? They are built for each other.

***

The forest he steps out into is grey and silent, the only life around being the thousands of tall and thin trees filling the landscape. It’s not quite how Adam remembers Earth.

When a human-like creature approaches him with a smile on its face and then opens its mouth to let some kind of eldritch horror worm thing out to devour Adam. Adam stands there in shock as this creature, dripping gross black goo everywhere, takes him in its mouth and attempts to swallow him whole. He quickly comes to his senses and begins tearing his way from the inside out with his teeth and nails, and then Michael burns from within, a glorious radiance that scorches Adam’s soul but completely _disintegrates_ their attacker. 

Drenched in black goo and monster saliva, Adam raises his eyes still burning with Michael’s Light to meet those of his attacker’s friends, standing a fair distance away and watching him with fear. He smiles at them. They whisper something in an alien tongue before scarpering off. 

“What’d they say?” he wonders out loud.

He isn’t expecting a response, so Michael’s soft reply of “ _Archangel_ ,” comes out of nowhere.

“Oh? They’re friends of yours, sweetheart?” he asks, idly scooping the goo off his face.

“ _You are_ ,” Michael says. 

He grins. “Aww, baby. I love you too.”

So - Earth has become entirely devoid of colour and is now roamed by packs of out-and-proud monsters. Maybe the Apocalypse decided to happen without them, like Michael had worried. Did The Other One do this, after he vanished from the Cage?

He explores for a few hours, hoping to find a building or _something_ , but it seems Michael has truly taken them to the middle of nowhere. He sharpens his fingernails into claws and relishes ripping into the small packs of monsters they do find, but they become sparser and sparser as time passes. 

“They must have passed a memo around about us,” he comments to his weary passenger. “Shame.” The first new people he’s seen in over a millennium, and they’re all cowardly monsters. Adam wants _blood_.

***

He finds a clearing big enough to manifest some of Michael’s wings in, and sits in the middle, gently grooming the crooked feathers. 

“Let’s have a rest. Then we can try to get back to civilisation, okay?” Civilisation. Food, drugs, sex, _bodies._

 _“Earth? Earth?_ ” Michael says after a while. Adam stops his handiwork as the Archangel speaks up.

“Yes, baby. We are on Earth, aren’t we?” 

A static whining quietly seeps into Adam’s mind and he can _feel_ Michael recoiling from him in fear. He pulls one of Michael’s feathers out in annoyance.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. Maybe I should have been more specific. I want you to make a portal to take us to _Earth_ , where a lot of _people_ are. Okay?” He strokes Michael’s wing along the broken bone.

“ _Adam Earth?_ ” Michael’s voice is trembling.

“That’s it. Good boy.” Michael relaxes a bit. “In fact, if you’re a _very_ good boy and get us to a proper city, I’ll even set this wing straight as a reward. Okay?” He dances his fingers teasingly along the break.

“ _Reward. Good boy.”_ Michael is thrilled. “ _I need your hands.”_

“To make the portal. Sure.” Adam shrugs, releasing control of his body to his passenger. He wonders where they are then, if not Earth. Another planet? Were there planets drifting around the cosmos covered in trees and monsters?

***

Michael does a much better job with the portal this time, and they end up New York. Adam is pleased. 

He heads to a night club as soon as they start opening up, eager to dig his teeth into his first victim. The lights are bright and flashing and the music is pumped at the loudest possible volume, but to Adam they’re barely existent. Nothing on Earth could compare to the intensity of _two_ Archangels, one screaming in agony while The Other screams in anger.

Adam strolls around the club, inspecting all the pretty boys and girls. “See anyone you like, baby?”

“ _Adam_ ,” Michael returns promptly. He is coiled tightly next to Adam’s soul. Adam sighs. 

“I know, baby, I meant someone I can fuck,” he explains. He is getting a few interested looks thrown his way, so this won’t be hard. He was considered handsome when he first lived on Earth, he recalls. Seven different girls asked him to prom.

He starts chatting a cute girl up. She’s bright, seems slutty enough, but she suddenly takes a step back, gasping. “Are you alright?”

“Huh?” Adam says. She wordlessly points to the bottom of her eyes. He feels his own to find blood leaking out of them.

“Uhh, I’ll be right back,” Adam says, and rushes past the clearly disturbed girl, heading to the bathroom. The smell of sex and drugs is even stronger in here, but he ignores it to focus on his reflection in the filthy mirror. 

His eyes are bleeding quite heavily now. “Michael?” he asks, worried, but he expands his perception to the supernatural to see that Michael has half-fallen out of his vessel, and has sunk his claws into Adam’s eyes to maintain his grip. “Oh, baby,” Adam sighs. Adam can’t even be mad. His poor baby. Adam needs to get him some food soon.

For now, he gingerly takes Michael’s claws in each hand and repositions them to grip onto the top of his head instead. Michael lovingly digs his claws into Adam’s hair.

Adam heals his eyes up and scrubs the blood off his face. “We can bleed later. We need to pick someone up tonight.” 

He heads back into the club and the girl has understandably disappeared. He finds a new guy by grinding up against him on the dancefloor before pulling him away to chat. He ascertains that the guy has a place of his own first before laying the charm on heavy.

***

He kneels over Ben’s body and gently kisses him on the lips. He wants to bite down, suck the blood out, but not yet. He wants to enjoy having sex with a living person at least once. That means not ruining the mood, he has grudgingly accepted.

He smiles at Ben as he licks his way down his body to his cock. The dude’s saying something, probably some kind of dirty talk or telling him what to do next, but Adam isn’t listening. Adam doesn’t care. He bobs his mouth peacefully up and down the cock, examining Ben’s face for reactions as he changes pressure and speed. He pulls his mouth off with a pop and Ben lets out a disappointed groan. 

“Do you wanna top? Or me?” Adam asks, stroking his own dick. Michael is almost fully separated from him, cowering in the corner. His Archangel couldn’t handle sex. It was the one thing Adam wouldn’t ask from him. 

“Uhh. I’ll top?” Ben says, and Adam is repulsed by his hesitance. The only one who deserves to top Adam with such a lack of confidence is Michael. Still, Adam did ask, so this is on him.

He’s about to sit on Ben’s erect cock but the guy sits up all of a sudden. “Wh - what are you doing?” he asks. 

“Riding you,” Adam says, annoyed.

“We need a condom. And lube,” Ben says in disbelief. He gets out from under Adam and legs it to his bathroom, bringing back the items he so desperately needed. Adam refrained from rolling his eyes. _Doing it properly the first time_. That means not bleeding out his ass.

It takes way too long to lube himself up before he can finally sink down on Ben’s cock, but once he’s there he goes for it, riding frantically as Ben gasps and bucks under Adam’s firm grip. The boy comes too soon, so Adam sighs and has to jerk himself off while Ben’s cock starts to soften in his asshole. He makes sure to come all over his face as punishment.

“Hey,” Ben complains, blinking sleepily at him, but a face covered in cum is the least of his worries. Adam grabs the bone-knife he’d made in the other world out of his discarded jeans and slits the fuck-boy’s throat in a smooth motion, watching with amusement as his eyes bulge and he attempts to scream out of his severed vocal chords. Adam laps up the blood pouring out of the fresh corpse with a smile on his face, and gestures at Michael’s half-manifest form.

“Come here, baby. Soul for you.”

Michael floats over in confusion. Ben’s soul has risen out of his corpse, ready to be claimed by a reaper.

“Eat it,” Adam orders. “You need your strength.”

“ _Not a soul-eater_ ,” Michael protests, to Adam’s surprise. It’s not like Michael to defy him.

“Just try it,” he suggests. “Maybe you’ll like it.”

His Archangel hesitates, and Adam slowly crosses his arms, frowning down at him. Michael reluctantly sinks his teeth into the soul, and seems to start sucking the light out of it, retracting once it’s gone almost entirely dim. Michael disappears back into Adam’s body, trembling more than he has in a long time.

“Good boy,” Adam says, not sure why Michael is feeling upset. Adam is trying to help him.

There’s someone watching him. He looks up. A reaper. He shrugs and tosses the drained soul at it. “I guess we don’t want this. Here you go.”

She stares at him a while longer, but vanishes when Adam rises from the bed. He tidies his new room up and checks out his new things. Brad honestly had a pretty nice apartment. Adam won’t mind living here.

Brad’s naked corpse lies on the bed. Adam was gonna fuck it, but he’s feeling a little empty right now. _Sated. I’m sated,_ he tells himself firmly. He can do it to the next one. “Michael, disappear this for me, sweetheart,” he instructs, and Michael’s Grace burns the body away.

He lays on the bed, and coaxes Michael into manifesting his wing once more. “We were going to fix this, weren’t we,” he murmurs, locating the break in the bone. “We’ll have to set it, and hold it in place until it heals up.”

“ _Fix,_ ” Michael agrees. Adam senses a cool sensation tingling around his soul. 

“What are you doing,” he says, annoyed. “Stop that.”

“ _Fix. Fix.”_

“I’m not broken, your wings are. Knock it off.” Michael reluctantly withdraws his Grace from Adam’s soul. “Good. Now then.”

He quietly works on Michael’s wing, wondering if he needs to punish Michael for all the disobedience. Now that they’re out of the Cage, Michael seems to think he can do whatever he wants. If Adam allows it, it’ll set a bad precedent. Won’t it?

“There we go, baby,” he says, as he wraps Michael’s Grace around the straightened bone. “Hopefully that’ll hold it.” A medical bandage wouldn’t really work for a metaphysical wing-bone.

Michael reaches his claws out of their body and digs them into Adam’s palms. Adam watches the blood drip out onto the bed. “Baby, I just changed these sheets,” he scolds. He brings his left hand up to his mouth to kiss Michael’s claw regardless. Tonight was just a warmup. Tomorrow, he would spill lakes of blood and collect lots of souls for his Angel to drink.

Maybe they wouldn’t miss the Apocalypse after all.


End file.
